


Anyway, Even Though, In Spite Of

by sunrizen (orphan_account)



Category: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Irony, POV First Person, Pregnant!Reader, Reader Insert, Steve Rogers x Reader - Freeform, Steve Rogers x You - Freeform, Tony Starks nickname jokes, Who writes their chapters in order anyway?, husky voice, pfft not me, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sunrizen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling to find a balance between each other's differences, you and Steve find the true meaning of love.</p><p>EXTRA CAUTIOUS WARNING:</p><p>This story does involve mature and graphic themes. Please be wary of triggers.</p><p>BUT PLEASE NOTE:</p><p>Chapter 13 is the only one displaying graphic themes and the backstory is the only dark part of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Right Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyLetters777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLetters777/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Temperature](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892092) by [LovelyLetters777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLetters777/pseuds/LovelyLetters777). 



> Some details will seem corny and out of character. If you'd like to point out any flaws, that'd be really helpful. Thanks and enjoy the read.

My violent scrubbing fizzes the toothpaste even more than usual. The acrid aftertaste of bile washed away with every spit and rinse. I blink back the hot tears threatening to glide down my cheeks. My eyes dart back and forth while shallow breaths heave in my chest. The seconds ticking by feel like hours dragging on. My trembling hand switches on the faucet again. I watch as the water sputters out of the tap and washes away the last of the toothpaste. I take one last peek at the countertop. My heart jumps and my stomach does flips.

Two little pink lines. That's the third pair of those exact two little pink lines I've seen in the last two weeks. I checked and double-checked and triple-checked. And every time two horrifying words come to mind: I'm pregnant. I can't be. It doesn't make sense. These stupid pieces of plastic are faulty pieces of crap. It's impossible and yet these things keep telling me otherwise? It's gotta be bullshit.

But as soon as I think that, a perfect and beautiful face comes to mind. What am I supposed to tell Steve? I can't not tell him. Can't I? What would happen if I don't? Nothing would have to change. It's not like we've been trying to have kids. He knows I don't want kids and I know he does. But we love each other anyway. He'd still love me if he didn't know, but that's because he simply wouldn't know. But if does know, I'll have no choice. His old-fashioned, honorable heart would already make a choice for me. And if I choose for me it would freeze his warm and passionate heart twice over. 

A knock on the bathroom door yanks my head from the clouds.

I jerk back and a meek gasp escapes my lips. Watching the door cautiously, I can't remember if I locked it. It's not like Steve would burst in if I hadn't, but still yet.

Before answering I clear my throat. "Yeah?"

"You've been in there a while." Steve's muffled voice resonates through the door. "You all right?"

I look at myself in the mirror. Habit causes me to mutter a swear at my unkempt appearance. I'm supposed to be getting ready to head out for our daily run together. How can I leave the bathroom looking like this? Especially since I've spent so much time in here already. "Uh, yeah. Be out in a sec."

He leaves me be with a skeptical, "Okay."

I pull out the hair band from a messy ponytail and comb my fingers through my hair. The natural style frames my face just right. I splash some water into my eyes and the puffiness softens. Not completely but enough to stop him from questioning my mood. I step toward the door but stop myself before my hand reaches the knob. The pregnancy test is still on the counter. I grab it and tuck it in the waistband of my pajama pants the way I used to hide my guns. Taking one last look around and confirming a clear bathroom I open the door.

Steve's leaning on the wall. His casual posture with one arm on his hip and the other holding him up used to make my heart skip, in a good way. Now it has the opposite effect.

Too ashamed to look him in the eyes, my gaze falls to the floor. "Sorry, my hair doesn't wanna cooperate today."

"I think you look beautiful, gal."

A somber smile lights up my features for a moment. His outdated use of the word "gal" always makes me giddy inside. And Steve knows it too. 

To keep things seemingly normal I give him a quick peck on the lips as a "thank you" and start towards the bed. Steve obviously sees right through that gesture because he captures my arm and pulls me in for a more sultry kiss. At first my heart feels empty, like I'm just going through the motions. But as his lips part mine, his warmth spreads throughout my veins. I melt into his embrace and forget the world and all my troubles. It's just me and Steve. The Captain, with all his tender and loving strength, pulls my body closer and I hold him tight against me.

We break the kiss only to catch our breath. I sneak attack one last peck, but this time it has more meaning than my first attempt, and I make sure Steve feels it. I release my kiss and watch as his heartfelt grin dances at the corner of his lips. 

"There's my best gal." He leans his forehead on mine, eyes closed. We stay like this for a while before I relax my cheek on his chest. This is what I love about Steve. He doesn't have to know why I'm sad to know how to make me happy. He just does it.

"You ready for that run?" His voice is gentle and almost silent.

I take a deep breath, really considering every option. My mind is racing, flashing, and zooming by. The pregnancy test is poking at my back and jabbing me with unrelenting thoughts. A mental image of the two little pink lines underlying each one. "Not yet," I say. Let me have this moment a little longer.

He takes a deep breath. "I know you're upset," he says. His soft tone is full of worry and compassion and love all at once. "And I know you're not ready to tell me why. But when you are, I'm right here—" Steve pulls away from the hug and grips my cheeks with both hands, making sure my full attention is on his deep viridian eyes. "—I'll always be right here."

A frown cracks across my face. I gulp down hard and nod at the beautiful man holding me. He leans down to kiss my forehead and hugs me into his chest again.

This moment solidifies it all. I've made my choice. And he has the right to know about those choices. I'll tell him, but not before I do what I feel is right for me. I just hope he'll still love me afterwards. For all I know this may very well be the last time he'll look at me the way he is now. That twinkle in his eye is exactly what made me fall in love with him. And now, I may never see it again. The truth's gonna break him.


	2. Baby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Editing and re-editing sucks. But I'm still trying to figure this out as I go. So, again, if you feel like something is out of place or a character's actions doesn't make sense please say something. Thank you! Enjoy the read.

I let him go on the run on his own for today. I mustered up some excuse I can't even remember now. But I'm sure his bright intuition sold me out on my lies. He accepted the excuse anyway and left me behind gracing me with another kiss before he left.

It was Maria Hill that first introduced me to the Avengers. I worked with her on a few cases during my S.H.E.I.L.D. days. We grew close as sisters because of the things we went through together. When she first moonlighted with the gang, Maria told me stories of how diversely adept the group was. It wasn't until Tony had invited Maria to a "little get together," he called it, that I got to meet them all. If anyone knows Tony's reputation it's that his "get togethers" are big and flashy—but still elegant—parties.

The Captain was the last person Maria introduced me to. "Saving the best for last," she said to me later that night. She wore that annoying smirk that people always have when they think they're playing matchmaker. And she wore it proudly.

After looking up several possibilities on Google, I made a decision in about a half hour. I still had fifteen minutes before Steve got back from his run. My quick fingers dialed the number on the website and I pressed call.

The line rang twice before a woman picked up. "Hi, this is the Westside Women's Medical Pavillon. My name is Gina, how may I help you today?"

"I'd like to come in for a consult," I announce. "For an abortion."

"I understand," Gina agrees. She guides me through the steps of making an appointment and explains the details. I understand most of it, but she reassures me that the doctor will explain anything else I have inquiries for. "All right," she says finally. "You're all set, we'll see you next Wednesday at 8:30 a.m."

"Sure thing," I tell her through the phone. "Thanks again, bye."

She replies with hopeful enthusiasm and the line goes dead. I let out a sigh and toss the phone on the bed. My gaze scans the room only to see Steve standing in the doorway.

I jolt, and release a gasp. "Jeeze, Cap! You scared me. How long where you standing there?"

He smiles, as if everything is normal. "Sorry! Just a few seconds, I guess. Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh that was Maria. She called to ask if we were going over to Clint's family thing this weekend. I told her we wouldn't miss it." I give thanks to Maria in my head. I read the text she sent me earlier while I did research on possible clinics but I didn't respond. 

It looks like he bought it because Steve grins and shake his head. Moving into the room he slides off his shirt and kicks off his shoes. "You two should just get married already and leave me out of it." The captain's eye twinkles with humor. "Honestly, she couldn't catch an elevator? You're only a couple floors above the mission control center."

"Hey!" I lift a brow and grin. "It's legal now. You can be my best man."

A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. He grabs some clothes from the closet and heads to the shower, leaving the door wide open.

"No, but really," I say, keeping my tone earnest. "She's stuck down there doing something for Tony. Thankfully she spared me the geeky details but I got the picture."

"Well hey," Steve calls from the bathroom. "We need to work on that jump reaction. Your first instinct should be to fight, not flight."

"Who was flighting?" I rise from the bed and lean on the bathroom doorframe with my arms crossed.

"You were scared." He strips himself right in front of me. Which is totally fine because it's not like I haven't seen his bare body before, but it still made my heart flutter. "But you should've been on guard."

I narrow my eyes at him and lean forward. "Are you asking me to spar? Because, you know, I can kick your ass in three minutes flat."

A childish grin tugs up at his lips. "I only need two and a half."

"Ha! You got that right."

"Not what I meant. Besides, you know I can last way longer than that."

"Do I?" My head tilts and I place a finger on my chin. "Clearly, not a memorable amount of time."

"Ooh!" His hand covers his heart in an exaggerated wound. I crack a grin in response. He wraps a hand around my waist and tugs in close. "Do I need to show you again?"

I crinkle my nose and push him away. "Take a shower, Captain. You smell."

"You love that smell!" he calls as I walk away.

I'm grateful my back faces him, otherwise he'd see my frown. Usually he was right, I did love that smell. It made him seem more normal and less like a super soldier.

I find my way around the New Avengers Facility, taking the appropriate turns and elevator rides towards the main quarters. It's bar with a kitchenette and some lounging chairs. Typical of Tony to design it as a bar first and living room second.

Natasha's sitting on a barstool, lips pressed to a steamy cup of coffee. I greet her with a smile as she glances up at me.

"Someone's up late." She nods over to the counter where the coffee maker is. "Wanda made a fresh pot."

"Thanks," I reply. "I was up earlier, just didn't wanna get outta bed yet."

She nods with a smug grin. "Ah."

"It's not like that. I just didn't feel well. Speaking of Wanda, where is she?"

"Behind you," says a familiar Sokovian accent.

I turn to see her big brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Oh, morning." Guess I forgot to scan the room completely. I smile at her. "Thanks for the coffee. I assume you guys are going to Clint's family thing this weekend, right?"

"Yes," agrees Wanda. "Laura texted my phone last night. She's excited to see everyone again."

Natasha clicks her tongue. "I wouldn't miss his kids' graduation for the world. Even if it is just elementary school."

The elevator dings and out comes Steve with his confident and happy stride. "Morning, ladies."

Natasha responds with a nod. "Hey."

Wanda gives him a kind smile. "Good morning," she beams.

He comes over to me, and places a sweet kiss on my cheek. "You seem to be in a much better mood, Bae."

The three of us girls burst into laughter. When I'm able to collect myself, I get out the sentence before I start rolling again. "Oh my—where could you have possibly learned that word?"

The supersoldier's bewildered gaze bounces around the room. "I went to Starbucks this morning, and heard a couple of kids saying it. I thought it was cute. Why? It's not bad, is it?"

I shake my head and chortle. "Don't ever call me that again."

"All right, all right." He puts his hands up in a surrender. "I'll just stick with 'babe.'"

"Mm, no. That's on my blacklist as well."

"Baby?"

My eyelashes flutter and I look down in silent shame. I clench and unclench my jaw, attempting to relieve some of the tension. It doesn't work. The next thing to come out my mouth comes out with a violent spew of acid in my tone. "You can just call me by name, Captain Asshole."

I regret the words the second they leave my lips. Well, shit. The day hasn't even started yet and I managed to turn it sour. The tension fills the air with shock and gives me the perfect opportunity to make my getaway. I blink once and storm across the room.


	3. Doomed Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some trouble with keeping Natasha in character while writing this chapter. If you can be on the look out for anything that doesn't seem right, it'd be really helpful. Thank you and enjoy the read!

This doesn't just affect me anymore. It's starting to ruin other people's lives. The Avengers; they're in the business of keeping mass destruction at a minimum. If I tilt the balance in the wrong direction, who knows what'll happen? I don't think even they do.

I didn't mean to... what I said isn't... It was just...

No matter how I try to justify my actions this morning, it's still pretty crappy. Because if I said it out loud, I must've thought it, and if I thought it, I must believe it. But I don't. I was ashamed and humiliated in front of two very strong and capable women. I didn't even know what I was saying until it was too late. I wanna take it back, I wanna take back those words and throw them off the roof of the tower.

I'm sitting here, in the botanic sciences break room, just watching the faces go by. They've setup the room with beautiful flower arrangements, making the room burst with a particular kind of personality. It's why I love it here, this room has a touch of scientific and natural beauty alike.

Some I've seen around but most are fresh faces, people I never would've looked twice at. They all share one thing in common: their lives don't stop. These people aren't stuck at a crossroads with both paths leading them to doom. Their lives are traveling with an acceleration of ten-times-faster-than-full-speed-ahead. And I'm just sitting here, waiting for the doom to seep out of the crossroads so I don't have to make a choice and I can just let it consume me. I don't know what I want anymore.

I'm not stupid. I spot Natasha from the corner of my eye the second she steps into the room. But then again who could miss those beautiful red curls? A defining feature that sets her apart from all these people. Her striking beauty grants drooling ogles from the guys and jealous whispers from the girls. But she pays them no mind. Nat bee-lines right to me, like she's here with a purpose. Confidence and supremacy oozes off of her long stride. She takes a seat beside me and keeps her features blank and unreadable.

"You're pregnant."

My eyes widen and I snap out of my daze. She has my full attention now. "What?"

"You heard me." She turns her head to watch me, losing a grip on her empty composure. Her head tilts to the side and her eyes narrow while she presses her lips into a thin line. "You're pregnant and you haven't said one word to Steve."

My initial shock fades and is replaced by gloom. I droop my shoulders and slink in the chair. So much for keeping it a secret. I turn my attention back to the people breezing through the break room. She already knows, no need to lie now. "I don't want kids, Natasha. I'd think, by now, you'd know that."

"So what are you gonna do?" Her smooth voice turn rigid. "You gonna talk him into adoption?" She pauses to search for a reaction. "Hm? What, you expect him to leave his kid in the custody of some stranger?"

I inhale a deep breath and release a long sigh. My voice comes out soft and docile. "That's not nearly what I had in mind."

"What else could you—" The realization hits her like a car had slammed her body into a gravel road. "—No."

My hesitant gaze meets hers for a fraction of a second and I already know she thinks the worst of me.

She sits on the edge of her chair, scooting closer to me. Natasha encloses my hands with hers and stares at me hard. "No, you can't do that. Especially not to Steve fricken Rogers, of all people."

I scowl at her, shocked she would even say something like that. "I'm not doing anything to Steve," I defended. "What I choose to do with my body is my business, nobody else's."

Her gaze falls to our hands. Suddenly hyper-aware, she releases her grip. Her dark red curls bounce as she looks up at me again. Natasha stares me down with an icy glare that bites worse than her weaponry. "Listen to me very carefully, kid. You have a choice here, one that I was stripped of long before I realized its brevity. I'm a monster because I chose to kill people. If you do this, if you choose wrong, you'll be a monster worse than me and all our enemies combined."

She turns her chilling focus to the crowd in the room and rises from her seat. Natasha came all the way down here just to tell me—you know what? No. I'm tired of people thinking they can tell me what to do. I'm not bound to her opinion just because it clashes with mine.

My eyes narrow into slits, and my throat releases a scoff. I manage to get out one sentence before she leaves earshot. "I would've thought you'd have my back on this one."

She turns on her heel, a daring expression embedded in the lines of her face.

"You're my friend, Natasha. You're supposed to support me no matter what. You, of all the people in the world, know exactly what it means when I say a woman's body belongs to her and her only. I never thought you'd believe otherwise."

She took a couple steps towards me, eyebrows lowering in the process. "If you really do this, if you really abort this baby, our friendship will be that last of your worries." Natasha starts toward the elevator again but turns back for the last time. "By the way," she says, pulling a cord from beneath her shirt. She continues to unclip a tiny black box from the band of her pants and skid it across the floor.

I glance at the device, already knowing exactly what that is. It's a simple and old school wire tap, clearly an obsolete device Tony wouldn't tinker with.

"Steve knows," says Natasha with a cruel twinkle in her eye. As if that isn't enough, she adds, "Everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still being composed and edited, please bear with me. Thank you for the comments and the kudos. I really appreciate it.


	4. Puzzle Pieces and Jagged Edges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Spot any flaws? Help me out and tell me in the comments! Thanks and enjoy the read!

Steve's sitting in a computer chair, watching the glowing screen. His hands are clasped under his chin while his elbows knead into the desk. Eyes burning, he turns away from the screen.

A firm grip on his shoulder offers little comfort. He glances up at Wanda, who's standing beside him. "It's my fault," the Captain admits. "I wanted to know so bad."

Standing up to relieve the tension in his body, Steve releases a long and shaky breath. 

Unsure of what to say or do, Wanda observes him and waits for him to say how he really feels. She knows the look that people give. It's the pitying stare that makes them think one wrong word could create new fissures in an already fractured heart. She tries her best not to make that look. Instead she remains empathetic and patient.

He steps around the room, looking at all the gadgets; an attempt to distract himself.

It's overwhelming for him sometimes. How much the world advanced while he's still stuck in the 1940s is a lot to wrap his mind around. The technology is much more... different than it used to be. Steve has become accustomed to most societal changes by now. But, the technology—especially this kind of technology—it's still so new to him.

When Steve requested access into the security room, the things he found exceeded his expectations by far. A simple request led to an elaborate plan, one that mangled his heart and tore apart his soul. A plan he devised himself.

Turning back to Wanda, he sighs. "I knew it, you know." Steve nodded at the Sokovian girl. "I knew she was pregnant from the very beginning. I thought she was just struggling to find a way to break it to me. But this... this is murder! How could someone so warm and loving become so cold and empty?"

"I don't know, Captain Rogers," Wanda says stepping closer. "But I know this: she is very much in love with you. Her mind is alone and her heart is afraid. Go to her. Show her your love for her is true even though you hurt inside."

Steve considers it for a moment. His eyes peek at the screen. She's no longer sitting down, instead she's at a communications desk. He looks back to Wanda. His brow furrows and he stiffens his posture. "Our love stopped being true when she hid this from me."

Just then a ding comes from the elevator, followed by Natasha's arrival. She steps out and heads over to where Steve and Wanda are standing.

A purse of the lips and an upturn of her brows expresses all the sympathy he needs without the empty words. Steve responds with a downward glance and a dispirited smile; his thanks for carrying out his plan—albeit a terrible one.

Natasha grimaces at her own thoughts. "I think I was too hard on her. She seemed distant and fragile when I first sat down with her."

A weary look from Steve, makes Wanda nervous. She's supposed to be helping him but it doesn't look like he's ready to confront the problem yet. He's still upset and the primary impact of such grim news hasn't left his demeanor. She can't figure out how to help him and it's bothering her. Wanda almost considers using her powers on Steve, but knocks the idea out of her head before it can even be entertained by curiosity. She takes the offensive approach instead. "You are a broken man, Captain."

Natasha and Steve look at her, both insulted and confused.

"And she is a broken woman," Wanda continues. "You are pieces of a puzzle that fit together with jagged edges. Those edges can help her accept such big and beautiful change."

Natasha's arches a brow and stares at Steve. "Strange analogy," she remarks. "But the witch has a point."

Steve crosses his arms and huffs in frustration. "I'm not going down to the lobby."

"Rogers," Natasha warns. "Two hours ago you were ready to have this baby with her."

"Two hours ago, I didn't know she was gonna murd—" Steve stops himself before he says something he can't take back.

"You were also ready to marry this woman," Natasha continued. "I know you, Captain Steve Rogers. And I know that kind of love doesn't just vanish from a big heart like yours. You're not cynical, especially when it comes to her."

Steve shifts his weight from one foot to another. He lets his arms fall to his sides. "You know what? I hate when you're right, Romanov."

She pops a crooked smirk and nods toward the elevator.

He begins to turn around and make his way down but is stopped by Wanda who grips his arm with more strength than he thought she had.

"Wait," Wanda protests. "Where did she go?"

Everyone's eyes are on the tiny glowing screen. She's not in the lounging area, and she isn't at the information desk. Their eyes are scanning the lobby through the small camera feeds screen.

Panic sets in and Steve stomps closer, as if that'll get him a better view. Leaning on the desk with the camera feeds engrossing his sight, his eyes dart from side to side. "She was just there!" He jabs a finger at the information desk. "I saw her a second ago; she was standing there, talking to that desk clerk."

Natasha offered up her thoughts. "She must've just left, probably didn't get too far."

Steve's palm slams into the desk. "Dammit!" He stands back and slings an arm at the mystical device. "How do you rewind this thing?" he demands.

Natasha steps up to the plate with a low snicker.

"C'mon!" 

"All right! Relax, Cap! Jeez..." Her hand grasps the mouse and clicks ferociously through the feeds. The screen pauses when Natasha is seen entering the elevator. She glances back at Steve, then to Wanda, and presses play.

A lone woman sits in the botanical sciences lounging area. She stares at the wire tap, pure horror strewn across her face. Her hand goes to cover her mouth and her shoulders heave in rickety sobs.

Natasha takes a peek at Steve. He's got a frown chiseled into his face as if by a sculptor. Watching the love of his life become so upset is yanking on his heart strings. Her focus returns to the screen.

The woman, though still sobbing, picks up the wire tap and takes it over to the communications desk. She mutters something to the desk clerk, and he nods in response.

"There." Steve points at the screen. "That's what I saw."

The replay continues and the woman is seen turning around. She faces the camera and stares right at it. Her red, swollen eyes and the tears streaming down her face don't compliment her. She mouths two words into the camera and dashes toward the elevators.

Wanda speaks up at now. "Where does she go from there?"

Natasha searches through the camera feeds and finds her stepping onto the ground level. The woman darts for the facility doors. 

Natasha and Wanda's attention focuses on Steve.

He spins around and rushes for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Natasha asks, following closely behind.

He doesn't turn around until he's inside the elevator. "To find her!" The Captain scowls away his tears and presses a button on the elevator wall. "And maybe stop her from doing something she'll regret."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story almost changed entirely. But I thought, what would happen if I experimented with this idea in my head? So now, I'm thankful I decided to stick with it. Thank you so much for reading, thanks for the kudos and the comments. I really appreciate all of it!


	5. Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the toughest chapter yet. But I still enjoyed writing it. Thank you for sticking around to give kudos and leave comments. Enjoy the read!

Most heroes don't run away. They stand their ground and fight for what they believe in, no matter how daunting it seems. Heroes do everything their capabilities allow to prove to the world that good people exist and the really good people protect innocent lives when they're needed. Captain America is a hero. But Steve Rogers is just a man from Brooklyn. A man of whom heroic things have happened to.

It is true, that he chose to be a science experiment. And that he chooses to be heroic in some ways. But it's also true that he just got lucky. He was lucky General Phillips was in the right place at the right time. Had the General been a fraction of a second out of place; it would have changed the world completely. And he wouldn't have made those heroic choices and they would have never led up to this moment, right here. Because they simply wouldn't exist.

He's standing here, glaring at a communications desk clerk in the Botanical Sciences lab for a superhero's top secret research and resident compound.

The desk clerk wears a metal tag with the name Robby engraved in it. Robby's horrified eyes are popping out of his skull and his jaw is dangling close to the ground. Making the great Captain America angry is so not a great first impression. "I swear, man! That's all she said," Robby proclaimed.

"Are you sure?!" Steve's voice boomed in the halls, causing a few people to spy on the two men. "You better think hard, kid. She didn't say anything—anything at all!—about where she went?"

"I promise you, man!"

Steve reaches a hand across the desk and grips Robby's shirt. He's about to start yelling when a firm shout echoes through the hall.

"Captain Rogers!"

He recognizes the smooth feminine voice. Steve loosens his grip and spins on a one-eighty. Narrowing his eyes at the woman before him, he takes a couple steps towards her. The Captain stiffens his stance, as if preparing for battle. "Maria Hill."

Unfazed by his threatening posture, Maria's determined to dominate the alpha male bravado he puts off. She straightens her back, while her hands are clasped together, and stands at attention. Authority emanates her very being. "Break room, now."

He fills his lungs with a deep breath and let's it out; unmoving, he glowers at Maria. Her brow arches, daring Steve to defy her. He clenches his jaw. But he shuffles into the break room anyway and ignores the stares he receives as he passes by.

As if he had a choice to begin with. The two battle hardened Avengers both know he'd obey her orders, no matter the circumstances. That's his best gal's best friend. And perhaps the only one can help him now. 

Maria held the door open, surveying the room. "Everyone else, get out." With power resonating in her voice, she didn't have to tell them twice. People scuffled out the door with no dispute. After the last person exited the room she slammed the door shut and twisted the lock. Turning back Steve, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees. She watched as he interlaced his fingers behind his neck. "What the hell are you thinking?"

His weary eyes blink up at her. "Natasha send you down here to rap my knuckles?"

"Wanda did. Answer my question, what the hell are you thinking?"

"Great, the weird one sent the principal to me." Steve rustles his hair and growls as he leans back. "Can we hurry this up? I need to find someone." He was careful not to mention whom. The fewer amount of people who know about his situation the better.

"When I said Wanda sent me, I also meant that she filled me in on what's happening. You know, I can expect you to be angry about this but screaming at the people we work with does not bring you any closer to where she is."

Steve's gaze flickered up at her. "You know where she is, don't you?"

"I know a place she might be."

Forlorn and desperate, he scoots to the edge of the seat. The Captain's entire demeanor transforms into a bleak and agonizing slump. In the effort not to break down, his voice barely comes out as a whisper. He pours his heart out in three short words. "Just tell me."

Maria's dogmatic composure dissolves and she steps closer to Steve. A heart-heavy grimace casts a gloomy shadow over her features. But still she says nothing.

"Please..." Steve begs for an answer.

She kneels before him, placing an endearing hand on his shoulder. "You need to leave her be right now. She's scared, and hurt; and she's not thinking straight. Let her collect her conscience. And in the mean time, I expect you to collect yours and apologize to everyone outside that door."

Maria is right. Steve needs to get his shit in order. It's not like him to act out. Especially with the kind of rage he just displayed. He crossed a line, one that he can't come back from. The damage is done, all there's left to do is clean up the debris. Steve's brows knit together and he looks down at his hands. He nods and meets her gaze. "Yeah, okay."

Maria sighs, relief coursing through her veins. She dips her chin in agreement. "Okay," she repeats. "After this and a good night's rest, you and I will go and find our girl. Together."

Steve graces her with a disoriented scowl. "A good night's rest?"

Maria bows her head and blinks up at him, a reassuring flare in her eyes. "She'll be fine, she can take care of herself."

He exhales and sways his body away from her and back. Despite his persistent efforts, a tear rolls down his cheek. "I didn't even know I could have kids. And now that I have the chance—" Steve shakes his head and stops himself from continuing the sentence. "I just can't lose this opportunity."

Maria presses her palm into his knee. "I know," she says.

The atmosphere is still and silent. Neither of them know what to say next. But there's an underlying agreement that goes beyond words: they're on the same side.

Steve Rogers is just a man from Brooklyn. A man who makes heroic choices, but he's still just a man. A lucky man who was approached by his desire in 1941 and a lucky man who now faces his destiny in 2016. He made a choice to be a super soldier once and, now that he knows what for, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

His fight isn't over yet. And he's not running away. It's just on hold until tomorrow. Maybe that "good night's rest" will give him time to cool off. Showing up with the anger he just expelled on Robby the desk clerk will only worsen their chances to find a footing they can both balance on. He has to remember, he's not doing this for him, or for her. But for the child—his child—whose life needs saving.

He can't lose hope for the love of his life. He has to trust that she will do what's right and talk to him before making a mistake on a whim. He has to believe in her. Because through it all, from the run earlier this morning, to his evil plan that shattered everything; there's been one constant. He loves her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot any flaws? Put them down in the comments! Thanks for all your help and keep an eye out for the next chapter.


	6. Not-So-Cheap Thrills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just poured out of me like ooze. I am on fire! Thanks for sticking around and thanks for the kudos and the comments. Enjoy the read!

Figure eights drive me crazy. The repeat loops going around and around; it never stops. And right now, I need my head to stop looping around the same worries over and over. I can't get that if I'm just sitting here, crying about the everlasting, figure-eight thoughts. I need it to stop.

So I pick up the wire tap with trembling hands. I try my best to compose myself before I approach the communications desk. But I already know I failed when the man behind the desk looks at me with pity. I shy away from eye contact, keeping my gaze low. Handing him the wire tap, I brace myself to speak. "This is for Steve Rogers. Can you make sure he gets it?"

The desk clerk nods in response, too afraid to say something in hopes that I won't break down right in front of him. I can only assume he has no idea how to handle a crying girl. Because the way he looks at me, it's like this is the first time he's seen a lion in a safari.

I thank him and turn on my heel. A heavy weight rests on my shoulders and I let out a shaky breath. I'm finally about to leave, but I'm reminded of something. There's a security camera in the corner of the room. I zero in on the camera. My mouth shapes the only two words that seem right for this moment. "I'm sorry."

With that, I book it to the elevator and press a button. The doors close and I draw closer and closer to the ground level, only it doesn't feel fast enough. A hard lump rises in my throat and tears burn in the corners of my eyes. The atmosphere feels like it's closing in on me and my lungs feel tight. Then the elevator stops and the doors open. I let out a deep breath that I didn't even realize I was holding in. With an open gap that bee-lines straight to the door, I zip across the room and burst out of the facility.

The summer heat wraps around me like a blanket on a sweltering night. But I charge through the hot spell and search for the motor pool. The compound sits on a hundred acres of land; zooming around this place isn't gonna be easy. I manage to find the lot in less than a few minutes and march my way in.

I'm suddenly stopped by a guard patrolling the entrance. Of course Tony had to set up a vehicle check point. Can't have his cars being stolen by just anybody. I tell the guard it's all right and that I'm just heading for a grocery run. Maybe a little fib like that will get this guy off my back.

But he doesn't budge. "Sorry, miss. But everyone who rolls through here has to sign in. Rules are rules." He nods to a door that opens into small room.

I peek behind the guard, longing for him to just let me through. My eyes, skimming the motor pool and landing on a Ducati 848Evo, bulge out of their sockets. That thing is no doubt tricked out with some serious Superbike features. I look back the guard, who's now lifting his brows and throwing a gruff hand in the direction of the door. "Okay," I say. My hands go up in surrender and I shake my head as I slink to the door.

I step inside and another guard is sitting behind the desk. He's just a kid—eighteen-looking, maybe pushing twenty. I nod at him and he presents a form for the daily check in.

The kid crosses his arms and a smug grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know how you thought you were gonna get into one of those vehicles without a key."

I glance up at him from the paper. "Huh?" I try to play dumb, but he clearly isn't buying it.

Leaning forward as if letting me in on a secret, he winks at me. "Mr. Stark built in extra precautions against hot wiring," he whispers. "On all the vehicles he owns."

A nervous chuckle erupts from within me. "Right, of course he does." I shouldn't have expected anything less. But then I realize something, if I can't fix up the wires, how am I supposed to attain the keys? I'm definitely not going back into the facility to beg Tony for them. Me leaving is supposed to be a secret. "So how can I get a hold of a key without Mr. Stark's knowledge?"

He clicks his tongue and leans on his back foot. "A copy of all the keys are held in this room, for security reasons."

"You mean in case he loses the he one he has."

He straightens his stance and tossed his hands up in the air. "What can I say? Even the world's best retired superhero is famous for losing things."

"Yeah," I agree with him and let a small grin slide into my features. "So how can a girl like me get her hands on a copy of the Ducati's key?"

"A hundred bucks, and a letter of recommendation."

I knit my brows together, a mystifying glint in my eye.

"Job security," he explains. "In case that bike comes back with a scratch."

I nod in agreement and lick my lips. "Look, kid. I don't have any cash on me and I'm pressed for time. How about we exchange gifts when I bring the bike back? I promise, I'll have both the money and the letter prepared by then."

He blows out his cheeks and exhales slowly. "Deal," the kid says. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a key from behind the desk.

Excitement fills me as hands it over. "Thanks—" I peek at the name stitched into his uniform. "—Micah. You're a life saver."

His prideful grin made him look years wiser than when I first walked in. He sent me out with two-fingered salute and eased back.

I mirrored the gesture and exited the room. The guard on patrol shot me an icy glare as I walked to the Ducati but I pretended not to notice.

As soon as I sat on the bike and twisted the key, the engine roared to life. Exhilarating thrills electrifies my insides as I listen to this baby purr. Damn, this is a sexy bike. Screw wearing a helmet, I'm gonna enjoy this ride with outright insanity.

I pull out of the stall and rev the engine. The tires screech against the pavement as I lurch forward. Zooming out of the facility, I catch a glimpse of Tony testing some kind of machine out in the field.

He pulls off his sun glasses and watches me go by with his jaw hanging low to the ground.

Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot any flaws? Put them down in the comments! Fresh eyes always see better. Thanks again!


	7. Sparks Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of trouble with this one but I'm glad I didn't post it before I finished it. If you know me at all, you know I have a bad habit of doing that. LOL! Thanks again and enjoy the read.

One of the great things about my old position at S.H.I.E.L.D., I learned a hell of a lot more about vehicles than I could've ever dreamed of if I had worked at a dealership. I was a field mechanic engineer, and towards the end, I was the best they had.

I encountered my first Superbike when I met Maria. I did my research on Superbikes before, but until that day, I'd never been face to face with one. 

She jammed a her 1198 and needed some repairs done. Her enthusiasm got me a bit skeptical. I wanted to see for myself what was so great about some stupid motorcycle. One flight out to where a case had taken her and Maria handed me the key. I, as the mechanic, took it for a test drive. An important part of diagnosis.

The second I turned the engine over I fell in love with her sound.

Maria saw it in my eyes and all she could do was grin. The evil super fan inside her pumped her fists and waggled her eyebrows. "It gets better," she promised.

I revved that baby up and took her for a spin. That drive changed me life. I got my first taste of adrenaline that was unlike any other. My growing interest in the Ducati Superbike sparked the beginning of our friendship.

After a while, I managed to invest in my own Superbike. I started with a 1098R then downgraded to a 999R and upgraded all the way to an 848Evo.

Just like this one.

I kept it safely tucked in my work shop stationed at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base of operations. But when that place fell apart, I lost my bike to the debris boneyard.

By then I'd already met Steve and we'd been on a couple dates. Neither of us took it too seriously back then. We were just starting to get to know each other. I never told Steve about my obsession. And if I'm being honest, why would I? I don't know what he'd think of me if he knew but I'm sure it can't be worse than what he thinks of me now.

When I spotted this beautiful thing in Tony's motor pool, I knew I had to take this baby on a drive. This is exactly what I need to get out of my head for a while. An adrenaline rush that brings me closer to forgetting and accomplishing distraction. On this ride, it's just me and this sexy Evo. No figure-eight thoughts, which means no worries, no anxieties, and no hurt.

As it turns out, the part of upstate New York that the Avengers facility is now located is a great place for a ride. A dirt path just north of the facility leads into a heavily wooded area with hills just right for this kind of bike.

I even spot a cute little bed and breakfast on the way.

Granted, it's been almost a year since I've been on one of these things. I take a few dives here and some tumbles there. But as the day gets darker and the heat fades into a cool and breezy atmosphere, I lose track of time. I don't realize the starry darkness surrounds me until I take my last dive.

I mutter a swear at myself and hop on the bike again. Riding down the dirt path in the dark makes it look different than it did earlier. I'm almost beginning to think I'm lost. I can only thank the summer night for not breaking out in a rain storm. That would've made my ride back worse by an exponential increase.

Eventually the path ends and I'm able to find my way back to the compound. But I stop a few yards in front of the gate. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back yet. Besides, I did promise that Micah kid I'd have his money and letter prepared. Better not make me a liar.

I turn the bike around. That bed and breakfast looks like a good place to lay low for a while. Following the road, I find it in less than a minute. The small Inn shrouded by trees sits along a deserted strip. The word "VACANCY" lights up in neon. It hangs above the "Welcome" sign, supported by two small screws. I can hear the electronic buzz echoing in the silent night.

Hope they take credit cards.

I hide Tony's bike in the overgrowth beside the Inn and sprint towards the door.

Within a ten minutes I find myself sitting on the edge of a bed, staring at the phone on the bedside nightstand. I'm hesitant to pick it up. I wanna call Steve so bad. I wanna tell him that I'm okay and that he shouldn't worry. I wanna hear his smooth, comforting voice. To hear the words, "it's gonna be all right," come through that phone would be everything I could ask for.

But this isn't a perfect world, and what happened this morning is unforgivable in Steve's eyes—in his heart. I'll always cherish the way he held me before he left for his run. His arms might never be that warm again. He cared so much about me.

And then I get to thinking. What if he doesn't care about me at all now? What if what happened this morning really did break him like I thought it would? What if he doesn't want to hear from me—or see me—ever again? I love Steve with everything I have. But... what if he doesn't feel the same anymore? Everything has changed now; and I'm scared, more than I've ever been. I hope we can get back to where we were this morning. But there's still that tiny bit of doubt in the back of my mind. Maybe we'll never be the same. One last notion crosses my mind. What if I can't fix us?

I let out an exasperated grumble.

Here we go again with those damned figure-eight thoughts. I'm never gonna know the answer if I don't even ask the question. To hell with "what if."

I pick up the phone and my fingers press rapidly into the dial pad.

First ring... no answer.

Second ring... no answer.

Third... no answer.

Fourth...

"Hello?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot a flaw? Want me to make it right? Tell me in the comments below! Be a pal and help a gal.


	8. Enchanted Charisma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd I tell ya? Three days or less. Anyway, I originally planned for the phone call to be in this chapter but the story just doesn't call for it. I promise it will be explored in the next one. Thanks again, and enjoy the read.

After the fiasco in the Botanical Sciences lab Steve had to let off some steam. Maria suggested sleep would help but he told her he didn't need it.

"I've had enough sleep to last me a lifetime," Steve reminds her. He boosts his brows up and down.

A charismatic grin expands across Maria's lips. "Or three," she adds with a small chuckle. "Look." She tears her gaze away from the captain and glances at the door. "I gotta get back to Tony before his mechanical heart spontaneously combusts or something. You gonna be all right?"

He huffs with a swift shade of humor. "Trust me, that would solve a lot of problems." He lets Maria appreciate his comical jab at the retired superhero but quickly resumes his casual sincerity. "But yeah, I'll be all right. Gonna hit the gym for a while, maybe go for a run."

"That's probably a good idea," she agrees. "We both know you need it." She leaves him with a pat on his back.

He starts off throwing punches and launching kicks. Quickly escalating to crazed shouts and frantic blows. One hit after another and another. With all his super soldier strength and speed, he takes one last biff at the punching bag. His knuckles burst clean through the bag and come out on the opposite side.

Well, he definitely went through his target on that one.

Tony isn't gonna like this. It'll be the fourth bag he's had to replace in the last year. At least this time the bag stayed in one piece. Not much could be said for the first and the second. The third one, however, was sliced in half due to the additional use of his shield. That was all on Tony himself, but the egomaniac blamed Steve for it anyway. All because it was his shield.

A growl erupts from his throat and he shoves the bag away. It swings back and forth on the chains. His chest puffs out in vigorous breaths and he lays himself on a Bench Press.

Funny how his mind instantly goes to the one person he doesn't want to think about right now. But it does.

He remembers the night Maria introduced her. It was one of his first "gatherings" since coming out of the ice. Steve was still a bit unadjusted to the whole new meaning of formal socializing. It was a lot different in the forties. But the idea was all the same.

Phil Coulson was in the midst of making his rounds. Steve remembers being grateful the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was distracted. It gave him a chance to slink even further into a corner. He hugged the wall as if for dear life. Despite being in the limelight most of his military career, he still didn't like being bombarded with crazed fans. He'd always show the rightful respect the agent deserved, that's no doubt. But an entirely new era has dawned and it's gotten overwhelming.

Steve saw her the moment she emerged from the elevator doors. With Maria at her side, this breathtaking woman looked as if she was on top of the world. She carried herself in a way that made her seem invincible. It was as if she breathed with an untouchable blaze inside.

Maria introduced this woman to everyone besides him. He began to think he'd never get a chance to know even the first letter of her name. After Tony tried—and failed—to charm the pants off this girl, Steve decided to move closer. Maybe if he was near, an acquaintance would be in order.

Unfortunately, Coulson spotted him before Steve could get an inch towards her proximity. A conversation set off and before he knew it, Maria and her friend were gone from their previous spot.

Steve can't recall most of what was said then, he was much more focused on her. He sits up and leans forward on the Bench Press.

Maria finally came around and Steve was relieved when Phil excused himself. He'll never forget the moment he met the gaze of that beautiful gal. His heart stopped and he felt as if he were in slow motion. Watching her enchanting spirit beam through her was better than watching the sunrise.

"Hey!" She welcomed Steve as if he were an old friend. "It's so great to finally meet you! I hope Phil wasn't too much of a bother. He gets pretty intense when he's excited."

"He's no problem at all," Steve fibbed.

Maria's gaze bounced between the two newly-acquainted pair and then fell on the bar. She jabbed an elbow into her friend's ribs. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You two, talk."

Steve moved closer to her and eliminated the space between them. "So you know my name," he chimed. "What's yours?"

The woman's lips curved up in a grin and her hips swayed in sync with whatever music Tony had playing on the speakers. "Not worth knowing just yet."

Intrigued, he shifted his stance and furrowed his brow. A silent question was written into the lines of his face.

She maintained her grin and held her silent answer inside.

Moments passed by and the world melted around them.

The memory of that night clutches Steve's heart with an iron fist. The first time they met wasn't when he fell in love with her. But it reminded him of how much possibility surrounded him back then. All the questions in his head could be answered by one simple statement: If he were given the chance, Steve wouldn't change any of it.

Blinking down at his feet, he listens to the empty room around him. Nothing but his steady breath and even heartbeat ripples through the silence. It's peaceful. Finally, he can breathe without a bitter feeling seeded in his gut.

A flash of her teary gaze flickers by every time his eyes close. The image of his best gal so distraught on that stupid screen is still fresh in his mind.

He isn't angry anymore. The only thing Steve feels now is hurt. She left him to face this alone. How could she do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is a flaw begging for your attention? Calling out to you like a bad smell? Put it down in the comments and help me fix it!


	9. And They Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! Celebration time! Thanks for everything and enjoy the read.

Steve goes to unhook the punching bag from its metal chains. As soon as the 150 pound bag drops to the ground, he flinches at the loud thunk and his muscles stiffen. He stands, paralyzed and staring at himself in the wall to wall mirror.

The gym was also used for Tony's backup dancers to practice their routines. Why he needed backup dancers was beyond Steve.

Staring at his reflection, he furrows his brow. And he lets memories of the past take him far away from the present.

Steve didn't understand why she never faced her back to him. Not even while she was clothed. He thought it might be a learned habit S.H.E.I.L.D. indoctrinated in their agents. Never once did he consider it stemmed from a difficult past.

There was some news about another Avengers outing and he wanted to say goodbye before he left.

He noticed she was still in the shower when he reached their room. Steve decided to collect his gear from the closet while he waited. His suit and shield rested on the shelf adjacent to his private arsenal. It held all the weapons he didn't want to share with the rest of the team. Skimming his weapons he hears the shower valve shut off.

Steve watched as she padded over to her dresser, covered in nothing but a towel. She completely disregarding his presence. But that's not what bothered him most. It was the pink and fleshy lashes on her back.

"Hey," he said. His voice was gentle and soft.

She jumped anyway and spun on her heel, looking like she was ready to pounce at any sudden movement.

Steve put his hands up. "Sorry, it's just me."

She relaxed her stance but sustained her tense posture. "Jeeze, Cap! I could've killed you!"

He loved when she called him Cap. It meant that even though they were together, she still respected his title. He worked hard for it too. But in all reality, he just loved hearing her strong voice come through those perfect lips. On the rare occasion she called him Steve, it made it all the more special.

Her eyes fluttered and she pulled the towel closer to her body. "What're you doing here? I thought you had a meeting."

"Yeah," he reaffirmed. A nod followed and he went on. "They just released us. Hey, I never saw those scars before."

Disgrace misconstrued her features and she stared at the ground. Under Steve's scrutiny, she tried to make herself seem smaller.

"Don't do that," he pleaded. "Don't be ashamed of your body. Not with me."

"No," she muttered. "No, it's not that. I just—the scars are invisible to me." Steve looked at her weird, so she continued. "If I don't see them then they don't exist. If they don't exist, then..."

"Then you don't have to remember," he continued.

An abashed shrug dropped her shoulders. "And the memories can't hurt me."

"I'm not gonna ask how," Steve started. He moved closer and the air grew intimate. "Or why. Or what. Or who. But I'll be right here when you're ready to tell me." He got so close that the heat resonating off her body mixed in with his. "I'll always be right here."

She was barely an inch away from a kiss when a purr spilled out. "Hmm, Steve."

Hearing her voice call his name sent an electrifying warmth coursing through his veins. "I love you," he whispered.

She froze in shock. Her brain fired off so many signals that she couldn't compress them all into one thought. "Huh?"

Steve chuckled, low and breathy. "I love you," he says, "because I see you as you are. You're whole. You're sweet. You're smart. And you're great in bed."

She shoved her palm into his chest and pushed him backward. A giggle emanated from her lips.

He bounced forward and regained his position. "But most of all," he goes on. His passionate eyes lingered on her, watching her beauty for a moment longer before he continued. "I love you because you're strong. Whatever happen to you, you didn't let it break your stride. You're not broken and you don't need to be fixed. You saved yourself along time ago. I admire that in you."

She let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I can't take all the credit for that. It took an extensive amount of time to get me to where I am now. But I wasn't—I didn't save myself on my own. I had wonderful people around me who cared enough to help me—"

"Like Maria," he interrupted.

"Maria," she said with a nod, "and some others." She gulped and picked up where Steve stopped her. "But I still have a lot of bullshit to get through. And I'm working on it. Look, I'm telling you this because I don't want you to see me as this perfect person—" she interlaced her fingers with his and pressed her other palm into his cheek—"I want you know that I'm not."

"I do know that," he said. "But you don't punish yourself because of it. Everybody's not just one thing. We're not all good or all bad, you know, both light and dark. Together. And you're no exception. But you don't scorn your flaws. You know that it means you're normal—real—just like everybody else. Imperfect, like me."

She stared at the man before her. He just professed his love to a self-aware damaged soul. A soft grin spreads across her face. "Me too."

It was his turn to look dumbfounded. "Huh?"

"I love you, too, Steve." She pulled his head down to her level and locked him in a wistful peck.

The words bounce around in his skull as he stares at himself in the mirror. An echo of her kiss lingers on his lips.

He lied to her then and he lied to her this morning. Steve wasn't there for her. He was there for him. He wanted to know what was making her upset so he pushed her. He wasn't there for her.

Steve inhaled a deep breath and turned away from his reflection. He drags the bag across the gym floor. Leaning it against the wall, he leaves the gym with no other evidence of his presence.

Eventually the broken punching bag will be mentioned, but for now, Steve decides to take that nap Maria suggested. He finds his way up to his room and shuts the door. The day's gone by so quickly, he notes. A dark sky hangs outside the window.

Just then, he hears a tune come from the bed. It's her phone. He recalls the last time they spoke before his shower this morning. He remember's watching her toss the phone in the middle of the bed.

Scrambling to the device he clicks on the green button.

"Hello?"

The person on the other side doesn't speak. But he can hear shallow breaths coming through.

"I know you're there," he barks into the phone. "Who is this?"

Again, the person doesn't talk. And suddenly it hits him.

He adjusts his voice to a calmer, and more sullen tone. "Hey," he starts. "It's you, isn't it? My best gal."

Her unmistakable sniffle bursts through the earpiece.

Steve clears his throat. Using his soft and gloomy voice, he tries again. "Just come home," he says. "Come home and we can talk about this."

Then the line goes dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flaws? What are those? I've never heard of that before. Explain it to me in the comments.


	10. BSOD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BSOD: Blue Screen of Death
> 
> A stunning revelation or horrible event affects a character or someone they care deeply about, leaving them shocked to the point of mentally shutting down for a while, analogous to the Blue Screen of Death in technological devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just heard about the first in the new comic series. I know, umpteen months late already. But I thought a chapter twice as long would cheer some folks up.

It's too cold here. And there's too much empty space. I can't sleep like this. This bed, this room, this inn—all of it! It's too fucking cold, and too fucking empty! Something is missing here and it bothers the shit out of me. This place doesn't feel like a fucking home.

My heart tugs at the pain under the rage. It's just a coverup—anger is secondary. Hurt is the primary. I'm hurt, I think to myself. I'm not angry.

I wanna go home now. He told me I can. So why can't I bring myself to stand up? I'm an ex super spy. I'm supposed to be fearless and eager to fight the good fight. But it's like something's got me paralyzed. A petrifying terror of what might be, a temper tantrum tied along with contempt, a miserable woe that invokes a blue-screen-of-deathlike daze. Call it what you will, but it's not one of these things. It's all of them.

Years of concentration and hard work taught me to feel my emotions and then let them go. But this time is different. I know how to do it, and I know what to do. But I just can't let it go. Everything inside me hurts but, at the same time, I feel absolutely nothing. It's a constant and ambivalent burrow that goes so deep inside that I'm beginning to wither on the outside.

I can practically feel my flesh aging as I sit here. I don't know how long I've been here. Probably hours. But after I called Steve only to hang up, I plopped myself down in the middle of the bed and weeped like baby. Eventually the tears stopped and the jagged breaths subsided, but my brain just couldn't rest. The figure-eight thoughts looped around and around all night long. My back is stiff from leaning on the headboard and my legs are numb to the point where I'll even consider amputation if I must.

I only notice it's a whole other day after the fact. The morning's first light covers the room with a golden shimmer and casts small but dark shadows across the floor. Summer heat trickles in through the open window and my skin tingles at the familiar warmth. Finally, the cold is going away.

It's a new day. Which means, the responsibilities beckon to be taken care of. Everything needs to be dealt with, and I mean everything. No matter how much I want to just sit here, the world needs me to get up today.

I blink at the edge of the bed. It's the first thing that's stopping me. I wanna go home but I also wanna stay here. Right now, nothing exists. No pregnancy, no heartbreak, no Steve—no responsibilities. If I let even one foot slide out from under the blanket, it all becomes real again and I'm going to get too many brain cells back. That floor, it's gonna eat me alive.

I suck in a deep breath and release. I make a split second decision.

Collecting my things, I hoof it to the lobby. The clerk knows to give me my card and a hundred dollars cash. With that in my pocket, I make it back to the facility in no time at all. The motor pool is only a few seconds away. I pass by the security guard out front and sprint to the sign-in room. The kid I met yesterday isn't here.

I mutter a swear and turn on my heel. My hand presses on the door when I hear a disembodied voice call from behind me.

"Hey!"

My heart stops. I spin around to see Micah pop up from under the desk. "Oh thank god! You're still here."

Ignoring me, he gets straight to the point. "Where's my hundred? You almost got my ass fired yesterday! Mr. Stark wasn't supposed to know you left on his Ducati."

I put my hands up in surrender. "My fault, long story. What do you mean by 'almost?' What happened?"

"Some sexy brunette vouched for you," he replied with a suspicious flare in his eye. "Said you went on a parts run or something like that."

Maria. Thank the lovely gods for that one. Wait, why would she cover for me if... shit, I hope she doesn't know. I wanted to be the one to tell her. I don't even know how people keep finding out about my situation. No, that's a lie. Steve and that big heart of his. He wears more than his heart on his sleeve. Anyone could guess what man is thinking.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the hundred dollar bill. "Thanks for the ride," I tell him. He takes the money and the key from my hand. "But that letter's gonna have to wait until you actually lose your job."

He stares at me with wide eyes, too stunned to say anything back.

I leave that comment hanging in the air and make a run for the living quarters. By the time I hit the elevators, I'm out of breath. The ride up gives me time to cool off before I head for Steve's room. I'm unsure whether or not to call it his or ours now. To be perfectly frank, I'm unsure about a lot of things at the moment.

When the elevator doors open, I emerge in stealth mode, keeping my eyes and ears open. I want to avoid as many people as I possibly can. Which means being highly attuned to my surroundings is detrimental when finding Steve's room. This actually kind of brings on a sense of nostalgia.

I scale the walls, listening for any kind of movement before peeking around the corner. No people. Relief ripples through my body. Moving forward, I listen more closely. Turn after turn, the halls are empty.

When I finally reach Steve's door, I let out a big and wilting sigh. I lift my fist up, about to rap my knuckles on the wood but I freeze. The same paralysis I felt just minutes ago comes back to haunt me.

Eager to make it go away, I clench my jaw and shut my eyes tight. Opening them again, I release the tension and go for it.

Only, as my knuckles go forward the door pulls back. My breath gets hitched in my throat. I expect it to be Steve standing there, already in his jogging gear but...

"Natasha!" I gasp. I blink profusely at the red-haired woman. 

"Morning." She greets me with a smirk. Pushing past me, she starts down the hall to her own room. Her swift catwalk-stride is no walk-of-shame this morning. But I know her game, she wants me to jump to conclusions. And right now, I'm in no mood to play.

Ignoring her, I focus back on my original task. Pushing the door wide open, I see Steve sitting at the edge of the bed. He's tying his shoe laces, just like he does every morning before going on his run.

"Hi," I pipe up.

He doesn't look at me, even after both his laces are tied. "Hey."

"Got time to talk?"

"Oh, now you wanna talk."

I flinch and wait a moment before speaking again. "I guess I deserve that."

Steve rises from the bed, still not looking at me, and makes for the door. "No, I don't have the time. I'm on my way out."

I step in front of him and place a firm grip on either side of him. "No you're not," a modulated tone says. I realize it actually comes from me a second later. "You go on a run every single day. I'm sure taking a break once out of the entire year won't hurt."

He keeps a calm and unreadable expression on his face. His eyes cast down at the floor. Steve makes no effort against my proposition.

I lick my lips, suddenly feeling self-conscious. One of my hands slides up to his cheek. When I speak again, a silvery tone dances on my tongue. "Look at me," I say.

His gaze doesn't falter.

"Steve, please. Please look at me."

His brilliant greenish-blue eyes look into mine and the tension in his body melts away.

As I speak, the words come out in a whisper. "There you are, handsome. I've missed you."

"Why did you have to go?"

I don't want to lie to him anymore. I've lied so much already and look where it's gotten me. So I tell him the truth. Even though it might break him, he deserves to know. "I needed to pretend."

His expression turns cold. "So you ran away. Real bang up job you did. You made me look like a doll dizzy creep, running around here and looking for you."

"I know," I admit. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for all of it."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

I flinch again and take my hands away. I cast a shame glare at the floor. "I know you'll never forgive me, and I'm not asking you to. But I want you to understand why I'm choosing to do this." I can hear him grit his teeth as he wait for me to continue. "I don't want kids."

"I know that already."

"I'm not finished," I shoot back. I take a quick breath and let it out. "I don't want kids because it's a hell of a lot of responsibility. I'm barely responsible as it is!"

"I'll say," Steve buts in.

I send a glare up at him but choose not to further my acknowledgement of his snide remark. "Having a child is a huge step. The kid would be completely and wholly dependent on me. I'd be worried sick every single day of our kid's life. Always wondering, 'Am I doing this wrong? What if that's not right?' I can't handle that!"

"That's part of the territory! We don't get to pick and choose what happens on a daily basis."

"Don't you think I know that? What I'm trying to tell you is that I don't want that kind of responsibility. I don't want a whole other human life dependent on my choices. If I screw up even once, it's all on me! All of it."

Steve's forceful hands grip my elbows. "If you had told me that instead of running off to god knows where, I could've had the chance to tell you—"

"Guys!"

Steve releases me and we both turn to look at the door.

Wanda is standing there with evil eyes that bounce off me and land on Steve. "The whole facility can practically hear your shouts. Enough already."

"We're sorry," I offer up before Steve can say anything. "We'll talk more quietly."

Her glare stays on Steve but when she looks at me again her eyes soften. Wanda nods and is about to walk away but she stops herself. "Do not forget," she says. "Clint's family needs you both in a good mood today."

Shit. That's today. A moment of shellshocked silence from me.

"Of course," Steve replies while I'm still stunned in place.

We watch as she heads back to her room and wait a few more seconds before returning our attention back to each other. Steve searches my expression but I hide my face in the strands of my hair as I look down.

I fidget with my fingers and start towards the bathroom.

Steve's harsh tone stops me like a deer in the headlights. "Where are you going?"

I spin around. "To get ready!" The phrase drips of my tongue with an extra powerful and bitter kick to it than I intended. "There's a more pressing matter at hand."

Steve nods. "Of course you think that."

I blink down for a moment. Letting his words roll off me like water, I proceed to the bathroom.

What the hell is the matter with him? What the hell is the matter with us!? We never used to speak like this to each other. How could one pregnancy turn months of love and passion into—into whatever the fuck this is? I don't hate Steve but I'm really beginning to question if I even love him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point to that flaw and make it go boom. And by "boom" I mean make it explode. With some f-bombs. Polite f-bombs.


	11. Fashionably Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I miscalcated the timeline of my plot. But I fixed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a bumpy ride! Can't wait to share more with you as we get closer and closer to the end. Thanks for the love and enjoy the read.

Right when we finally think we've got it all under control life happens and screws us ten times over. Or, at least, that's how I think the quote goes. They keep telling us that. And we never believe them until we realize it's true. And by then, it's already too late.

The whole crew rolled around the Barton family home just in time to get the party started. But not before I got an earful from Tony about his Ducati, a cold shoulder from Natasha, and one of Maria's famous lectures about debts and owing Steve for all the love he's given me. Wanda and Vision remained the neutral and unaligned pair throughout the whole situation. So far.

I only wish it could've been me to tell everyone about the pregnancy instead them just finding out from someone else. It would've been nice to have control of the information. But then again, living with people who dabble in espionage is never a pleasant ride. Privacy is a privilege I can never have, especially with these people.

Something tells me Wanda took a peek inside my head too. She's been nothing but tender and kind all day while still managing to appease Steve. Every time I get even a smidgen closer to asking her if she really did it, she tiptoes around the subject or something else comes up.

Vision, on the other hand, sticks to his honest ambivalence. Neither on my side nor Steve's.

Not that I actually believe I have a side at all. Or that we should even be divided amongst ourselves over something as ridiculous as this. I can't control everything and I know that, but I still wish this wasn't happening.

I'm sipping on some water while I watch the kids play in the grass. They've made up some fantastical world in their minds only they can see. I observe from the porch and listen to their unfeigned laughter. It's nice to hear.

Laura creeps up to my side, keeping her gaze on her children. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I glimpse at her from my peripheral view but instantly return my attention to the grass field. "You gonna lecture me too?"

She snaps her neck at me and knots her brows. "Whoa, where did that come from?"

I turn away from the field. "I'm just so tired of everyone telling me what I can and can't do."

Her confused expression remains unfaltering. "I was just talking about the kids playing in the yard."

I hesitate before looking at her again. "You... you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Suspicious I lift a brow. "Well, I'm certainly surprised." Shifting my weight from one leg to the other I roll my tongue over my bottom lip. "I thought somebody would've told you by now. I'm pregnant."

I watch as the shock sends a wave over her and then excitement. "Really? Cong—"

"But I'm getting an abortion," I add in. Cutting her off before she finishes an accolade that has no meaning here, I watch as the light in her eyes drains and leaves her disappointed.

"Oh," she mutters. An anguished sigh expels from her lips and she returns her focus to her children. "Why are you surprised no one else mentioned it to me? Isn't that more of a 'you and Steve' thing?"

"It's supposed to be," I tell her. "But with the way Steve mopes around, everybody kind of just found out."

She hangs her head, and stares at me through lidded eyes. "No need to be modest with me, hon. He told them all before you got the chance, isn't that right?"

"So it seems." I let out a light chuckle and lean on the porch banister. "They all hate me, and I won't blame you if you do too."

Laura empties her lungs with another sad sigh. "No, hon, I don't hate you. In fact," she says and looks me over. "I know exactly what you're going through."

My eyebrows raise and I dip my head. "You do?"

She bites the inside of her cheek and nods. "Uh-huh. I was sixteen when I made that choice. And I still stand by it. But oh my, the kids at school hated my guts. Imagine still trying to figure out your life and going through all that at the same time."

I let out a groan and shut my eyes. "People suck."

"No," she corrects me, "people just don't understand. There's a difference."

I open my eyes again and see a delicate yet reassuring smile cross her features. Responding with a similar gesture, I give her a look that says, "Yeah, you're probably right" and I look back to the kids. They're tumbling in the grass now.

She, too, refocuses on her children. Taking in a deep breath, she puffs up her chest and cups her mouth. "Supper's ready! Wash up!"

All movements immediately cease and the two kids run up to the porch.

Laura and I watch them dash in through the door and she turns to me again. Her hand grips my arm. "You should eat something. Just because you're getting an abortion doesn't mean you can force a miscarriage."

"I know that," I defend. "But I don't know if I'm ready to go in there just yet. I will eat, I promise. But... not yet."

"I understand," she says. Tightening her grip once more before she leaves, she takes her hand away. "Ready when you are." Laura leaves me on the porch and shuts the screen door behind her.

I turn back to the grass field and finish off my water in one last gulp. I wait for the kids to go to bed before I walk in there again. Better that they eat first. And for what I'm about to do, it's also better they're asleep.

After they come to say good night, I give them each a peck on the cheek. That's the last I see of them for the night.

I head on in to the kitchen and find a foil covered plate with my name scrawled into it. The whole team is in the parlor, chatting in hushed tones, careful not to disturb the children. I uncover the plate and and bring it with me into the parlor along with my cup half full of water. Everybody's talking amongst themselves, but as soon as I enter the room, they all go silent.

"Late for dinner," I say, trying to play it off as nonchalant. "I know. But give me a break. A girl's gotta watch her sunset." The subtle humor earns me a chuckle here and there.

I take a seat next to Wanda, who just so happens to be methodically placed straight across the room from Steve. I start picking at the food and Clint sparks a conversation.

"So is that water or vodka?" He nods to the cup in my hand. "We all know how Nat likes to start early, am I right?"

Natasha shifts uncomfortably in place. The rest of the room is silent.

"Water," I blurt out. My voice maintains it's natural coolness as I speak up again. "Can't drink, I'm pregnant."

Steve hisses my name. My eyes flick up at him. "What're you doing?"

"What? Everybody already knows."

Clint's eyes beam at me and Steve. "Well, I didn't. Congratulations, guys! That's awesome." Awkward glances are exchanged throughout the room and Clint makes a note of it. "Or not... guys, what am I missing?"

I reply quick and swiftly. "I'm getting an abortion and almost everyone else here practically hates me for it."

Maria intercedes before anyone else can. "We don't hate you."

Out of my natural instinct, a brow arches up at that statement. "Huh, really? 'Cause it seems like it."

Natasha buts in this time. "You're making a big scene out of this on a night that wasn't meant for you and your drama."

Rage lights a flame inside me. My eyes flicker up at her. But then I notice Vision's slight shake of his head. Bouncing my gaze around the room I take in all of their expressions. Tony's intrigued. Sam, who I just realized is here, is more confused, probably at why Steve seemingly spilled the beans to everyone else besides him. Laura is sympathetic and almost pitiful. Clint is still trying to grasp the whole thing. Wanda looks ashamed and hurt. But my gaze stops on Maria. She's expressionless, completely unreadable.

"Johannesburg, South Africa," I say more to her than the rest of the team. "The year was 2012. About two months before Maria even heard whispers of S.H.E.I.L.D. putting together a merry band of superheroes."

Her features melt into a mixture of guilt and confusion. She rises from her seat and makes her way to me. Maria places her hand on my knee. "You really don't have to do this," she says.

My grief-stricken eyes meet hers. "Yeah, I really do."

She lets out a sigh. "Okay, okay." Taking the plate of food from my hands she places it on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Her hands clutch onto mine. "I'm with you on this. But if at any point you need to stop, we can stop."

Steve blurts out from behind her. "What is happening?"

Tony finally adds in his two cents after an extra long delay of silence. "It's some kind of lesbian orgy, Otter Pop."

Maria twists around to shoot daggers his way and turns back to me again. She takes a deep breath and nods.

"Okay, here goes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pick me apart. Don't excuse any eyesores. Express your desire to correct the incorrect.


	12. Big Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting there! I'm so so so pumped to be writing this story. I honestly had no idea I had it in me to stay inspired for so long. Normally I lose interest and drop a story within the first few chapters. But with this one, the flame still burns. And I don't see any kind of wind blowing it out any time soon. Thanks for everything! I really appreciate it. Enjoy the read!

It was spring in the northern hemisphere. Flowers were blooming, the air was fresh, and the grass turned from a wilted brown and back to its lively, crisp green again. Spring revived the world from a wintry destruction; a kind of rebirth, in a sense.

I can only explain my excitement for the new season as more than a desire. It was like I waited my whole life for that one time of the year. I've always loved spring. It meant new things were happening and big changes were coming. I felt it in my bones. As soon as March rolled around, it brought me savory satisfaction.

In between flights, before Fury sent me on another mission, I would set up races with other bikers. Mostly people in my circles, but there were occasions where I branched out a bit. A ride on my Ducati kept my head clear before going out and fixing up someone else's vehicle. It was my anchor, kept me grounded. For the most part anyway.

This was all happening when I still had my 999R. I had yet to dream of upgrading to an Evo.

I'd just gotten off a flight from Oregon. Some poor schmuck wanted to tear apart their whole Cadillac because of simple fuel pump leak. If I'm gonna be honest, that agent wasn't the sharpest tool in the box.

When I got the call, I didn't hesitate. As much as I wanted to take a break and ride again, I knew it would be a while before I got to hop on any kind of bike.

Without looking at who it was that was calling me, I pushed a green button and brought the phone to my ear. "Sorry!" I mimicked the tone I used in the message that takes my voicemail. "Can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message after the tone. Beep!"

Director Fury's voice came through the earpiece and it didn't sound like he was gonna exchange pleasantries. "Quit messing around, Agent, and get your mechanical engineering ass to my office."

My body tenses and I straighten my back. I glance around the tool shop, careful not to make any sudden moves. That room had been created particularly for me. Car parts, tires, and tools lined the walls. As a traveling engineer I never knew what kind of extra scraps I might need on a mission. So I kept everything extra and brought it back to the shop. That room held all the toys any grease monkey would die for, and some extra tech that S.H.E.I.L.D. kept hidden from the rest of the world.

I froze in place and stood at attention. Cautious, I acted as if the director could see me through the phone. "Yes, sir. Do you need me to bring anything with me, sir?"

"I don't recall mentioning any supplies, Agent. Just get in here, stat!"

"Yes, Director, I will—" The line goes dead before I can finish. "—absolutely do that..." I clear my throat and tuck my phone into my pocket again.

It's extremely rare for the Director of S.H.E.I.L.D. to handle any mission by himself. He usually had a liaison contact us and brief us for pending missions. The fact that he called me on my personal cell meant that something was going down, something that was not good.

I reached his office and the secretary sent me in with a file in her hand. She passed it to the Director and he excused her from the room. I watched as she rushed to shut the door behind her. I wondered what had her on edge.

"Commander Hill requested your services in Johannesburg," boomed the Director. His eye patch made him look even scarier in person.

"I don't understand." My brows knit together. "I thought I didn't have high enough clearance to leave the country."

"You don't," he stated simply. "Tell me, why would Commander Maria Hill, with level nine clearance, request for you? Why wouldn't she ask for Johnson? We all know he performs better than you do in the field."

Agent Michael Johnson was my rival engineer; at one point, my best friend; and now, my ex-lover. All that wrapped in one stupid ass package. After he tried to hit on several other agents, including Maria herself, Maria vowed to me that she would always choose me over him. Especially since our friendship blossomed from a similar interest.

"Not to get smart with you, Sir," I start.

"Then don't," Fury cut in.

"But," I continue anyway. "I believe the only person who can answer that question is Commander Hill."

His one eye flicks up at me and he lets out a low growl. Everyone heard the gossip about the working relationship between Fury and Maria. He was definitely not going to ask her himself why she chose me. "I'm sending you on this one trip out of the country. Screw it up and your ass gets demoted to street greaser, you hear me?"

'Street greaser?' What the hell did that even mean? "Yes, sir," I replied.

"I'm giving you one week to check out her vehicle and that's it. As soon as you get back I expect a full report with some answers."

He sent me off to South Africa on a newly developed S.H.E.I.L.D. jet. I was sure there was enough room to nab my Superbike and carry it out there. But I figured going on an international field trip was already pushing it with him.

When the jet touched down, Maria agreed to meet at a little motel in the area. She told me her bike was waiting for me in the parking lot and that she'd be there any second. She had some loose ends to tie up before joining me.

I didn't mind, it gave me time to test some theories. I examined the bike for a few minutes before I heard footsteps behind me. Keeping my eyes on the bike, I swivel on my foot. "So it looks like someone deliberately pulled out your brakes," I said.

"Yeah," Maria agreed. "No shit."

I look up at her, lowering my eyebrows. Quizzing her with only my expression, I studied the totally new demeanor she wore.

Her body was stiff and her arms were slightly raised. A small trace of terror crossed her eyes and she nodded to somewhere over her shoulder. "I'm sorry to drag you into this," she says.

I notice to guys leaning on an old and broken-down Beamer. My highly trained eyes catch a glimpse of some extra heat. And they didn't pack light. Hydra soldiers with a purpose.

"But I had no other choice," she admits. "They think you're the director. I couldn't put his life in jeopardy like this."

The two soldiers made their way toward us. 

"So you thought mine was better?"

"I'm sorry." Her eyes were sincere but her words were static. They held no meaning in her tone.

"Wait," I panicked. "Maria, those aren't Hydra soldiers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flaw! The flaw! The flaw! Where is it?


	13. South African Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES A GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF FICTION ART WORK. PLEASE BE WARY OF ANY TRIGGERS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this chapter man. It's pretty dark. I thought I was gonna keep this light and fluffy. But in order for the end to make sense I had to do this. I still hope you enjoy this awesome story.

EXTRA CAUTIOUS WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES A GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF FICTION. BE WARY OF TRIGGERS. 

Pain seared throughout my body and I let out a groan. My muscles grew fatigued and stiff. With every shallow breath I drew, agony ensued. I was suspended in mid air, held up only by the restraints around my wrists. The metal cuffs dug into my skin as the weight of me wore them down. I swayed and twisted my body as much the chains would let me. "Shit!"

Maria's voice called to me in the dark. "You're awake. Are you hurt?"

I searched for her familiar face but it was to no avail. After blinking and fluttering my eyes I realized something. A crusty piece of fabric hinders my sight. I've been blindfolded. And that's the only cloth I have on.

A shrill whine escaped my lips as the terror set in.

"Hey," she said in a more abrupt tone than before. "Talk to me."

I trace my tongue across the cracked surface of my bottom lip. "My head's pounding like crazy and my muscles are burning."

"That's normal for a situation like this. Anything else?"

"Nah," I shake my head. "Nothing too bad. I'm hanging from a freakin chain wrapped around my wrists with nothing but an old cloth to cover my eyes."

"We all are," croaked an unfamiliar female voice. She sounded young and her words carried a heavy weight. A South African accent suggested she was a local.

"Thema?" Maria called. "Is that you?"

"Yes. How do you know my name?"

I could hear Maria expel a sigh of relief. "We're the cavalry," she said.

"Not much of a cavalry if you, too, have been captured."

"All part of the plan, sweetie."

I scoff at her. "Maria, what kind of mess have you gotten us into?"

She grunts and adjusts her position from her chains. "I lied to you at the motel."

"Yeah, I got that part down."

"This little girl is a huge threat to HYDRA, which means she could become a huge asset to S.H.E.I.L.D. I was sent here to retrieve her. Unfortunately, while scoping her out, I stumbled onto the path of human trafficking ring and, well, here we are."

"Thema," I said, turning my head to the direction I heard her voice come from. "Let me ask you something. How old are you?"

"I am ten years old, miss."

Returning my attention to Maria, gnarl at her. "That's just perfect. I wasn't aware indoctrinating kids with all this spy crap was part of S.H.E.I.L.D.'s new protocol."

"Hey, I wasn't gonna let—" She was cut off by a deafening bang.

Footsteps padded into the room. It sounded close to five—maybe six—separate people entered all at once.

A man, whose voice I recognize as one of our captors, spoke first. "A lekker naii with this one," he said, "is gonna cost you."

I heard the whack of flesh on flesh and a shriek from Thema. Instantly, my heart breaks for this girl. "Get your hands off her, you filthy pig!"

Someone else speaks out, another male voice. "You're not gonna let this chot tune you, are ya?"

A silent moment went by and I heard someone else shuffle into the room. They paused for a quick second and left again.

Terrified of what I can't see, my heart started beating faster than ever before. I tried to keep my breath steady but each inhale couldn't fill my lungs quick enough and each exhale couldn't empty them either.

The unmistakable sound of a whip gliding through the air and cracking on impact echoed in my ears. I didn't feel the pain until a fraction of a second after. My voice cried out and my body squirmed in the air.

"Leave her alone!" screamed Maria.

Ignoring her, the man grabbed my waist with an iron grip. "You think you can speak to me that way?" He shook me back and forth, growling. "Hm?"

Another whistle and snap resounded through the room. The slick burn came immediately after and I screamed again.

That was only the beginning. I knew more torture would unveil itself in time. But I was already thinking up ways to escape that retched place before I got to find out just how much time it would take.

I didn't know how long we were there. The seconds dragged on making it seem like years. At least thirty people came into the room to view their products. But no one made a bid on any of us, which surprised me. It made me wonder why.

The three of us girls were probably going to starve to death before we left this place. They gave us water but who knows what kind of additives might have been in it. Our chances for escape were slim but I didn't let that discourage me.

It took me a few rounds to get used to their routine. But once I learned it, Maria and I devised a scheme.

When they came in to give us water is when I executed the escape plan.

Someone marched into the room, dragging along a bucket of water. "Wakey, wakey!" A man's voice bounced off the walls. "Your water has arrived!"

The man made his rounds and went down the line. Maria was first, Thema was after her, and the time came for my turn.

I gulped down as much as I could before humming in a provocative tune. "You're so great for giving us water," I taunt.

"Finally coming around to me, aren't you, sexy?"

I nibble on my bottom lip and feign a sheepish smile. "You really think I'm sexy?"

He places his hand on my rear and moves closer to me. "Oh, I absolutely know it, baby."

Swinging my legs back, I gained as much momentum as I could and launched my body onto his shoulders. My thighs twisted around his neck and I clamped my muscles together. "Then get my friends out of their restraints. Because as soon as I let go you're not gonna be able to breathe for a few short seconds extra. If I get my legs around you again, you'll be worse than dead. Is that clear?"

He tapped my thighs and vigorously nodded his head. I released my deadly hold and he choked as he struggled to catch his breath. I counted down the seconds.

Three… more choking.

Two… heavy breaths.

One… chain rattling.

Maria grunted as her body dropped to the ground.

A triumphant grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. I always loved the sound of freedom.

I heard Maria aiding Thema as she got released. Then they returned for me. The man fumbled with the chains, anxious to be so close to me, and I dropped to the ground.

All the aches and all the pain from my injuries suddenly burst through my whole body. I groaned and rolled over on the ground.

Maria knelt to my side and helped me up. "C'mon, up you go."

I was wobbly but still able to stand on my feet. Pulling the blindfold off my head, my gaze was met with Maria's. Glancing around the room, I got a sense of my surroundings. But then I remembered Thema and the man. Spinning around, I found Thema in the arms of someone I recognized. "Agent Johnson?!"

His nervous chuckle and mewling tone left me enraged. "Surprise!"

"Took you long enough," Maria jabbed at him.

My wide-eyed, furrow-browed, dagger-shooting gaze was no longer on Johnson. Maria had my full attention now."You mean to tell me that you had an inside man the whole time and you didn't mention this before?"

Maria's expression made her seem rational and completely sane. "I had to be sure you'd help me retrieve Thema. If I'd told you about Johnson, you'd have never gotten us outta here."

"Don't thank me yet, Hill."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flaws are only the beginning of individuality. To fully embrace ourselves we must know our flaws first. Tell me a flaw you noticed down in the comments.


	14. The Choices We Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know no one cares about the back story. You all wanna see what happens between the real apple of your eye and yourselves. So I summed up the ending of your flashback and put it into real time. Thanks for everything and I hope you enjoy the read!

"We were there for 47 hours," I continue telling everyone. "There were other people, mostly young kids who were trapped, just like Thema. God knows how long they were kept in that awful place. Having already infiltrated the bastards, I made it known that we weren't just going to save one kid. We were going to save them all."

Steve's eyes were fixed on me, compelling my gaze to meet his. I look at everyone else in the room besides him. I can't bring myself to see what kind of storm stirs inside those beautiful oceanic blues.

I clear my throat and adjust my position in the chair. Fidgeting with my hands, I begin talking again. "We came up with a plan. Burn down that crap hole and release as many people as we could. Maria and Thema got stuck inside and I went back to find them."

Maria grabs my nervous hands and squeezes. The gesture makes me gulp down the lump rising in my throat. A shaky breath casts a shadowy gloom over the parlor. "Thema was trapped behind a piece of fallen debris and I found Maria struggling to move around it. We tried to get her out of there. I really did try." I clutch Maria's hand in an effort not to let a single tear fall. "The fire amplified in heat, the smoke was slowly killing us all, and I knew time was dwindling down. I had to make a choice. Save Maria. Or risk all of us getting killed trying to save Thema. I chose."

Natasha bowed her head, guilt splashing color into her cheeks. Tony watches me with an attentive, and yet, sympathetic expression. Sam wears a practical frown on his face. Vision remains in his constant state of logical reasoning. Clint and Laura exchange morose glances. Wanda doesn't look at me but I can tell she feels for me all the same.

"That was my first," I start again, "and last ever real S.H.E.I.L.D. mission and a ten year old girl whose life was solely dependent on me died because I was selfish."

Steve spoke up first. "You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened."

"I know I shouldn't but I do. When I think about having this baby, all I see is the look on Thema's face when I dragged Maria away. I just left her there. I can't have someone look at me like that again."

Maria's hand wriggled out of my grasp and I realized I must've been squeezing too hard. She looked at Steve now. "You can tell her that it isn't her fault, Rogers. But the fact is she'll never believe it for herself. Believe me when I say I've tried everything."

Natasha's sullen heart poured into her words. "I'm sorry about what I said to you yesterday. But you can't possibly believe that not having a child is gonna keep you from experiencing pain. Life is full of pain, we see it every single day. But life is also full of love, and joy, and so much more than that."

"I killed a child. That's not pain, that's murder."

"And yet, you want to get an abortion!"

"And I didn't tell you what happened to me just so you can change my mind about it either. a collection of cells that is not viable outside of the womb is not a human being."

"I beg to differ, bitch."

Tony peeked over at Steve. "Can we refrain from using such language in front of white Ice Cube over there?"

I grunt, rising from my seat, and grab the plate off of the coffee table. Waving my hand in the air, I march out the room. "Forget it."

As I'm halfway down the hall, I hear Tony's voice. "Was it something I said?"

In my head, I think, "yes," but it doesn't feel true. It's an established habit to pick on Tony because why not? He does it to everyone else. But in this moment, that habit seems empty and cold to the touch. Imagine if I actually had said yes, I would've created more drama than there already is.

I find myself out on the porch again. I'm stuffing my face and watching the starry night sky slowly drift across the horizon. It makes me think of that one scene from The Lion King.

Pumba, Timone, and Simba are all lying in the grass. Timone says something about the stars being fireflies stuck in "that big, bluish-black thing." Pumba adds in that he always thought they were balls of gas burning billions of miles away.

I giggle at the thought. Who knew such great humor could come from a kids cartoon?

"Haven't heard that beautiful melody in a while."

I twist my waist around to see Steve leaning in the doorway with is arms crossed and thumbs poking out. He didn't even open the screen door yet. I sway from side to side, keeping my eyes down, and turn back to the sky.

"May I ask what brought out that sudden burst of cheer?"

The question catches me off guard. I swallow the last bite of my dinner. "Oh, uh, nothing. It's stupid, really."

Steve bows his head and puffs out a forlorn sigh. "Look," he says, unmoving. "I get why you're giving me the cold shoulder right now but I need you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you yesterday, it was very wrong of me. I shouldn't have done that."

With the empty plate still in my hand, I turn to face him now. "What're you talking about?"

"I sent Natasha down to the Botanical Sciences lab."

I blink at him, eyebrows knitting together, and tilted my head so that my ear was directed at him. "You did what?"

He sighed again, this time with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I knew were pregnant the whole time, I just wanted to know why it was making you so upset. So I made her wear the wire, and when she confronted you about the pregnancy I began to regret the whole thing."

I stood there, blinking at this man who I loved and who I thought loved me back. Stammering before him, I don't even make a complete sentence. It's like my brain is malfunctioning and cannot compute the words he just said into a comprehensible string of code. "I—you—it…" Instead of saying anything that constructs an actual statement, my voice comes out as light and fluttery. "Hah!" I spin around and take a seat on the porch steps, placing the dish on the wooden floorboard beside me.

Steve is silent. After a quick second, the door creeks open and I hear him pad over to me. He hunkers down on the porch, my empty dish the only thing separating the space between us.

It's too dark to see the grass field. Even with the moonlight illuminating the world in silver, I can barely see blades of grass swaying in the wind. "This whole time," I begin, "I thought it was Natasha manipulating us and exposing the secrets of our relationship. But I was wrong. It was you who manipulated me from the very beginning. I can't believe it."

"I didn't want you to hurt anymore."

"So you hurt me even more? Great plan, Captain. Seriously. Of all the things you could've done, you deliberately stab me in the heart and twist the blade."

"I'm sorry."

I look at him for the first time that night, really look at him. Steve sits with his elbows resting on his knees and interlaced fingers holding up his chin. His blond hair is a chaotic mess, like he tried to pull out the strands in odd places. The faint pale moonlight catches a sparkle in his eye, but it's not a beautiful shine. It's a guilt-ridden tear.

I move the plate behind us and scoot in closer to lean my head on his shoulder. "Yeah, me too."

We may not see eye to eye on everything, and we may not be the greatest couple in the world, but we love each other in spite of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gouge out those flaws and bring them to me!


	15. Where We Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just imagine if I hit you with this chapter before the ending. You guys would be soooo pissed.

There's a reason I'm not apart of the Avengers team.

After what happened to me in Johannesburg—after what happened to all three of us, we were put on "Desk Duty" for thirty hours. The Director's idea. And let me explain something here, Nick Fury's concept of that police force term is far from what it actually means.

Desk Duty did consisted of long hours behind a desk. But it also including intense inquisition sessions by and of the Council. They poked and prodded at every open metaphorical wound. Of course, the Council never did any physical harm. They always appeared to us as simulations and holograms. Never letting us get the chance to punch them in the face when all we wanted was some peace and quiet.

I remember what it was like for me especially. They held me in a completely white room. Nothing but a cool aluminum table. It felt more like an interrogation room than an office. I remember the anxiety of waiting for the impending doom. My knee shook wildly and I drummed my fingers on the aluminum. And then when the council finally presented themselves, I was just as anxious for it to be over.

They took away my traveling privileges and bumped my clearance down to level one again. Aside from that, I was required to meet with a psychologist twice every week. It was all just to keep me in line really. They were crossing their I's and dotting their T's. Any chance of me committing treason had to be scrutinized and double-checked and triple-checked. I was gonna be continuously under the microscope from then on.

When my thirty hours were up, I found out exactly what happened to Maria and Johnson. They both underwent the same procedure. But despite the exact same routine, we all had different results.

The Council cleared Maria for active duty again. But dismissed Johnson's loyalty completely. We later found out he confessed to being a HYDRA double agent all along. I knew better. When the guards took him away, I saw it in his eyes. He lied to keep me at S.H.E.I.L.D. 

So like I said, there's a reason why I'm not apart of the Avengers. After the fall of S.H.E.I.L.D. Tony took me in, like he did so many others. He employed me and gave me a job I'm grateful for. But with Tony's genius brain already in the mix, there's no need for a mechanical engineer like me.

There are only two people that connect me the Avengers team. Steve and Maria. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm even around when the whole team is together. Sticking my nose in their classified mission business isn't where I belong. While Steve is the best boyfriend I could ask for and Maria is my greatest friend, I don't belong with the Avengers.

I think I know that, and I think that's why I ran the other day. I'm just Steve's girl to them. Just Maria's friend. Why should I even try to be otherwise?

The days have past quite slowly. Everyone avoided eye contact with me, or just spun around walked in the opposite direction. Everyone but Steve and Maria, that is. They were the only two who understood that I would be around but I wouldn't speak unless spoken to. It was a very sullen and bland three days.

And then I woke up on Wednesday, remembering exactly what today meant for me.

Steve is just wiping the sleep from his eyes when I scurry out from under the sheets. He peeks at the alarm clock. "Hey, darling." His voice is still hoarse from sleep. It makes him seem almost irresistible. Almost. "What are you doing awake? It's still 5:30."

My bare feet pad over to his side and I kneel on the ground. Matching my gaze to meet his level, I gulp and run my fingers through his hair. "I have an appointment for today. It's just a consult, but if everything goes well…"

I watch as the bewilderment in his features melts into grief.

"Steve." His name comes out more as a warning. "You have to know that no matter what, I love you. I love you with everything I got inside. I just can't do this." I gesture to my stomach with my other hand.

He takes the hand I have entwined in his hair and sits up in the bed. Steve places my fingers over his heart and I can feel his skin pulsing beneath my palm. "You feel that?" He watches me with sad puppy dog eyes, waiting for me to answer. I nod and he continues. "My heart beats for you. Every single beat," he repeats. "It's all for you. I love you, doll. You're the best gal I've ever had."

"I love you, too, Steve."

"Then prove it," he says and scoots forward. "Prove your love for me and don't go. Don't leave me here."

I see it. The same exact look that Thema had in her eyes when I left her. It flashes across his features in a fraction of a second. And just as quickly as it had appeared, the expression melts into a deep sorrow."

I bow my head and breathe in. My eyes shut close and I stay like this, holding in that big gulp of air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a flawless piece of art and you can't tell me otherwise.


	16. Church Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the final chapter you've all been waiting for.

The dress wraps around me like the perfect layer of white icing. I'm staring at my reflection, twirling in place. My heart is pounding in my chest and deep breaths come out, quivering my bottom lip on the way. The perfect wedding hair paired with the perfect wedding makeup makes me look so unlike the real me. I'm almost unsure of myself. But I wipe away any doubts before I even get the chance to entertain those silly ideas. Because that's all they are; ideas.

Who could've guessed it? A girl like me gets to walk down the aisle and meet Captain America at the alter. Years have passed since I was just a young girl dreaming of being a pirate and slaying dragons. Now, I've grown into the most awesome person I could ever be. And I'm about to marry the most awesome person I could ever meet.

I'm nervous, and excited. And all the things in between that one could possibly be when pledging their whole life to someone. Especially when that someone has been frozen in time for over seventy years. Literally. That sounds like I'm taking a cheap shot at my future husband, if I think about it. But really, it's not. Anyone who knows Steve Rogers, knows that his quick lunge at having a wedding could be a little bias because of all the time he missed out on.

The metal door handle jiggles. I break away from my thoughts and spin around just in time to watch the wooden slab swing open.

Steve is in his tuxedo with his hair greased back. A look of worry and stress distorts his beautiful features. Before I can object, he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.

"Steve, get out!"

"Oh, darling," he ignores, "you look swell."

"You're not supposed to see me yet!"

He steps closer so that we're inches apart and wraps his large hands around my elbows. Steve's eyes are sincere and full of thrilling ideas as they storm around in his head. "I think—" His Adam's apple rises and settles back in his throat as he gulps down whatever was threatening to come up. "I-I think it's a mistake for us to do this."

Three days ago, I could've sworn we had gotten through the worst of it together. Not once did I imagine it would be—out of the two of us—Steve to call off our wedding. I was constantly on edge that it would be me. Or that one of the other Avengers would take back their blessing and stop us from continuing on with our lives. But never did I question Steve's loyalty and commitment to me. Three days ago, it was he who questioned mine to him.

I was sitting in the main quarters, chatting with Natasha. She was telling me about one of the missions she and Clint teamed up on. I finally understood the jab at Clint she took back in 2012. The events of their Budapest adventures were certainly enlightening. I laughed at the newfound insights I had, Natasha joining me with a smirk of her own.

I was relieved she and I got past our problems with the abortion. It's been five months but it felt like it took five years to get back into her good graces. I missed her so much. And it killed me to be on the receiving end of her cold shoulders and dirty looks. Nat was not only Steve's friend, but she was mine too before my pregnancy was revealed.

It wasn't until I saw the distracted and confused glint her bright green eyes that I turned my head away from her. I looked behind me and saw that Steve was marching right for me with a thunderous storm over his head.

My smile faded and I got up from where I'd been sitting. Meeting him along the wall, rather than in the middle of the room where everyone would hear us, I peer up at him. My hushed, silvery tone floated through the air. "What's the matter?"

He shoved something in my hands and jabbed an index finger at it. "That! That is."

I blinked up at him, keeping my confused gaze on him for a second longer, then looked down at what he'd given me. It was a folded piece of glossy paper, the kind that photos are usually printed on. I glance up at him in question but he just widens and contracts his eyes. It's a signal I recognize as him telling me to look closer. I unfold the flaps and see myself in an outfit I wore a few days ago. I'm walking with my head bowed and a smile on my face. Another man, a dark-skinned man, has his arm wrapped around my shoulders. My attention flicks up at him again. "Where did you get this?"

"That's not the point. The point is my fiancée is hanging around with some flat tire who's got his filthy hands all over her!"

An exasperating breath spilled from my lips and I looked at him with hooded eyes. "Steven Grant Rogers, you tell me exactly how you got a hold of this photo."

"Okay," he agreed with a nod. "But first you tell me what the hell you were doing with that guy."

I twisted my jaw and bit on my tongue, narrowing my eyes at him. "Did you," I said with an attitude that belittled him into a child again. "Or did you not have someone on my tail that day?"

A permanent scowl embedded itself into the lines of his face. "So what if I did? Clearly, I have good enough reason to."

"Do you not trust me? Because if you don't then why are we even getting married in a few days?"

"You ran away when things got too hard—when I found out about you wanting to get the abortion. Or do you not recall?"

"Oh, I remember it just fine, Captain Dickless. If that's what this is about, why couldn't you just confront me instead of going behind my back? Just like you did when you went digging for that information in the first place!"

"How can I believe that you won't run off somewhere crazy like you did then? Huh?"

I purse my lips and glower at the man before me. "Not going through with the abortion should've been enough evidence of how far my love for you reaches." I slam the photo into his chest. "That 'flat tire' is my half brother, asshole. He came for the wedding." Leaving that to hang in the air, I marched toward the elevator.

Needless to say, I did run again. But not because things got too hard. That time it was because I needed stop being so angry… and I wanted to see my half brother again. I actually left a note on Steve's bed explaining where I went and when I'd be back. Dummy didn't even go up to the room and accused me of leaving without notice again. And boy, did he kiss ass when he found the note later on.

I understood why he put a tail on me. Steve thought I was going to leave him. Hell, I even thought I was going to. But over the course of the next two days, I still didn't consider he would ever pull a stunt like this.

I'm standing before him, panic already spreading though my veins. I stay silent and wait for him to elaborate on his own. I don't dare question his thoughts or motivations. Tears ignite flames in the corners of my eyes and my nose burns a bright pink.

"Everybody out there," Steve goes on. "This is for them. The whole black-and-white-tux-with-a-white-dress charade is all for show. I know you better than anyone outside those doors. I don't care about what anybody else thinks."

"I don't understand."

"All that matters is you and me. And the rest of them? They don't have to agree, or like it, or like us; for that matter. Because this—you and me—it's not for them or about them."

"I agree," I tell him. My hand goes to cup his cheek. "But, hon, out there... Steve, you and me aren't just you and me."

Steve presses his warm cheek in my palm and shuts his eyes for a moment. Reopening them, he takes my hand in his and places it on his chest. He leans down to plant a kiss my forehead. "I know how to make this feel right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because this is the end doesn't mean you can't share your thoughts on my flaws anymore. Expose me for the imperfect writer I am!


End file.
